


Returning Home

by SingingCookie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Character Study, Family Feels, Gen, Post-Kingdom Hearts II, Pre-Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingCookie/pseuds/SingingCookie
Summary: It was strange that things had not seemed to change. He had not been home in—how long had it been now? A year now, two maybe? He would have thought that the islands might have changed at least a little since then. But he was wrong; nothing had really changed.





	Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Just headcanon fic about Sora coming back home. I actually wrote this in a way less detailed way on tumblr years ago. But I decided to edit it and put it up on here. Hope it turned out alright!-

It was strange that things had not seemed to change. He had not been home in—how long had it been now? A year now, two maybe? He would have thought that the islands might have changed at least a little since then. But he was wrong; nothing had really changed.

The thought had only occurred to him once he, Riku, and Kairi had made their way back to the main island. The play island was _always_ the same from as far back as he could remember. The only thing him and the other kids had managed to change was the appearance of the Secret Place. All those childish drawings were their own contributions to their world. The only real difference he could find upon his return was an addition to one of those very drawings…

But it was the trek to the beach toward his own house where he truly realized that besides that minor addition, everything had stayed right where he left it. There were no new houses being built—most everyone preferred to be closer to the city further in and he didn’t blame them. He recognized the neighbors’ animals as he passed them, either barking or staring him down as he passed by. All the young kids running around as much as they could outside before the sun finished setting; once it had their parents would be at their doorways, calling them back home.

His footsteps faltered the tiniest bit when he saw it—even the house looked the same. He started to walk toward the front porch, a hand trailing along the dingy fence that lined the lot. Dad still hadn’t repainted it. Sora remembered that Mom had been asking him to for years now. He wondered if she had finally given up trying convince to him to or if he had just continued to put the chore off like always.

Contrary to that, the bushes and flowers had been trimmed and well-kept—no doubt his mother’s work. She had loved tending to the plants; and some days when he had stumbled back home exhausted with everything he threw himself into, she would be kneeling by her “problem child” flowers of the day. But they were forgotten when her son would arrive, greeting him with a smile or worrying glance over. Often she had two glasses of lemonade beside her—Dad would bring them out when she was too sucked into her work—and she always insisted he sit down and drink with her to tell her about his day.

What could they possibly think of him now? He had been gone so long…

After admiring the front yard and the memories that resided there for a second more, Sora brought his gaze back to the building before him. It was unbelievable, he thought as he started up the porch, how familiar and yet alien the sight of this place felt now. The wooden floorboards screeched after his foot had come down on a particular spot, and he felt his heart race at the sound. Was it always that loud? Would his parents have heard that?

That thought caused him a moment’s pause on the doorstep. When he heard no trace of movement within the house, a relieved sigh wormed its way out of him; and yet he did not make his way inside. His shoes were planted firmly in place as he stared at the front door to his home. His mind found itself completely and utterly stuck on what to do.

Had this been like any other day, he would fling the door open and cheerfully shout that he had returned while his parents would roll their eyes at their son’s exuberance. But this wasn’t like any other day. Nowhere close.

He hadn’t just been on the play island for a few hours, like normal. He had been gone for at least a year and some months—heck, maybe somewhere past two years by now—with no word to his parents on his whereabouts. He could have come home, however briefly, but he didn’t.

Sora may be goofy guy but acting as though everything was the same…that just wouldn’t be right. He took in a sharp breath as he lifted a hand, curling it up and ready to tap his knuckles on the wood. His fingers froze an inch from the surface.

He couldn’t just knock on the door! His fingers tightened as his hand fell back to his side. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger here. This was home. And it felt _right_ being back here. No, he didn’t feel out of place, so how would it be correct to put himself in a position where he was an outsider—asking for permission to come in? If anything, that would only upset his parents. He knew that it would hurt them greatly.

Once he had finished deliberating, his fingers found the doorknob and gently pushed it open. Sora slid inside once the crack was just wide enough before closing the door directly behind him. He had a faint hope that perhaps his parents were out at the very least—

That wish was snuffed out when he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. He heard conversation begin as he started toward the proper doorway; his mother was scolding his father over something or another (hardly surprising). His dad did not seem to be taking the talking to very seriously, responding while giving amused chuckles.

He should have known they were home before he heard anything. He could smell whatever Dad was cooking. He didn’t cook often, he was usually worn from work and didn’t have the patience to slave over a hot stove. Mom never minded cooking, but she was always so happy when her husband would offer to treat them for a change. Sora was too, Mom just couldn’t cook meat the way Dad did.

He swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. They were here. _Sora_ was here. He tried to speak, but all that came out at first was something like a hum that did not penetrate their range of hearing, the conversation moving onward while he tried to figure out what to say once he could speak. It was like he was choking on his own breath, the way the words were lodged there and unable to break free.

“Mom…?” It was the first thing he managed to croak out as he continued toward the kitchen’s archway. He swallowed again before adding, “Dad?” And just like that, his mom’s reprimanding came to a sudden halt along with his dad’s laughter; he started to wonder if maybe he had simply imagined they were here. His memories of the old days so strong, perhaps, that his mind had presented what he was used to. Yeah, maybe…maybe they weren’t home after all!

He finally reached the archway, setting his hand upon it and staring into the room. He was incredibly wrong; his parents were here just as much as he was. From the looks on their faces though, they still seemed to doubt if he was really here. Their eyes were wide. His father was slack jawed, his hand slowly inching toward the dial on the stovetop. His mother…she was broken. He had never seen such heartache cross her features—never.

He couldn’t bear to even smile at them. It would be too fake; and they would know it was. From the look on their faces…man, what they must have thought happened to him… What was he supposed to say? Should he tell them what happened? Or would that be too much? It was a pretty long story—

“Sora…is it really you?” His mom had begun to make her way across the room. He could not bear to return her gaze; he felt awful that he was the reason she looked so sad. “Are you…really here?” His heart seized within him, like her voice had grabbed it and squeezed as hard as it could. He didn’t think seeing his parents would be quite so painful.

He kept his eyes trained on the floor, giving a minuscule nod. “Yeah, it’s…it’s me, Mom…” Warm fingers touched his cheek, lifting his chin up to look at her and the teary smile she now possessed. His dad was beside them now as well, and he wrapped each arm around the two’s shoulders. Sora looked between them with stinging eyes before he could finally manage a smile, touching the hand that lay on his face. “I’m home.”


End file.
